Fire Emblem: Radiating Mark
by DeathRavenLove
Summary: In the distant world of Telius, a war is on the horizon. The fates have called upon the greatest tactician of all time to aid in the war. Follow the story of FE10 through the eyes of the tactician, Mark. Spoilers for FE10, rated for language and occasional violence.


**AN: First of all, I'd like to apologize to all my readers (are you guys still even there?) for my history with writing. After a 5-year hiatus, I'm back. Over this period, I've been able to mature, both in my self and my writing. I hope that, now, I'll be able to stay and bring even better quality work to you guys and for my own personal accomplishment.**

**Whew, now that's done with. Hello new / old readers! It's great to be back to writing on (let's hope regularly!), although I've been lurking around during my hiatus, reading and preparing for this day. This story is just one of my many plot-childs that I created during my hiatus and wish to share with you all. It's really all just a retelling of FE 10 (Radiant Dawn) with the Tactician from FE 7 (Blazing Sword) though, so there are no surprises. I'm just writing this to practice my writing, get a little kick out of the adventure (hopefully you'll enjoy it!), and develop some characters (because Radiant Dawn had crappy character development which made me angers).**

**Now if you're wondering how often I'll update and how legitimate I'm being about this return from my hiatus, then good for you. Never trust your authors unless they have tons of fics, we're all here to write out a kickass first half of the story then leave you hanging in the second half. We're evil bastard/bitches that way (at least that how I feel I've been behaving to you guys -.-). So, in addition to writing this retelling, I'm also playing Radiant Dawn again (I will save you this time, Pelleas!). So that's good in the fact that as soon as I finish a chapter (or two), I'll try my best to report back. It's bad in that, I have, like, a million and a half other things to play/do. So… Let's hope for the best, shall we? I'll try to remain consistent this time, I swear!**

**Oh, and if you're wondering if there will be any pairings, there will be no major ones. I'm not really highlighting relationships in this, although there will be hints of LynXRath in this first chapter. Other than that, nothing really, although I may drop hints of IkeXSoren (I don't even think I could help myself with that ;D).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Fire Emblem and all characters used are property of its respective owners.**

* * *

A wide smile splayed out over Mark's face as the Kutolah camp came into view. He had been riding through the Sacaean plains for two days straight without seeing a single soul. Tracking the nomadic Kutolah tribe had certainly been no small feat.

As Mark's horse trotted into the camp, eyes began to stare as little children pointed. Mark guessed that it was more the nomads' shock of seeing an outsider at all, as opposed to him being the world-renown tactician. Even though he traveled incognito, avoiding total detection was inevitable. Still, Mark saw this place as safe enough to take off the hood that shrouded his face.

Chestnut hair and piercing green eyes made themselves known to the world, drawing attention from all the elder tribesmen that recognized him. As everyone began to whisper among themselves at the presence of the outsider, a man in his late 50's with a bandana and a growing moustache walked up to him. Mark got off his horse and bowed his head in respect to the famed, "Silver Wolf."

"You need not bow to me," the Silver Wolf said, causing Mark to raise his head. "We are unlike those nobles of Bern and Etruria. But you have invaded the sanctity of the plains. Outsider, you best leave now, lest something bad happen."

"Is that anyway to greet a friend, father?" a familiar voice asked. Mark turned his head and smiled as Rath emerged from a tent. He looked the same as he did two years ago when they had all resolved the issue at the Dread Isles. "This is the esteemed Mark, the master tactician I've spoken about."

"Really now?" Dayan asked, looking upon Mark dubiously. Mark merely chuckled.

"Your son exaggerates," Mark said, a small smile on his lips. "I am still learning."

"You are here to see Lyndis, are you not?" Rath asked, moving in front of his father. Despite Lyn's best attempts to get Rath to talk more, he tone still always remained more or less monotone. Mark nodded. "She is off with Florina right now. But please, stay and rest."

Rath began to lead Mark back to the tent he had emerged from, causing the commotion they had stirred up to disperse suddenly. Everybody returned back to their business, pretending not to stare at the strange outsider that the Silver Wolf's son treated as an equal. Dayan merely grunted and returned to his own tent. As Mark followed Rath, he suddenly felt a hand on his left shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. When Rath realized that his companion had stopped, he turned around to see what had happened.

An old, huddled figure clad in robes held onto Mark's shoulder in a death grip. A wrinkly hand aged with time, yet still surprisingly strong, spun Mark around. "You are… Mark, correct?" the strange figure asked. The voice sounded strained, but full of experience and wisdom.

"Elder Sara," Rath said almost breathlessly, as he bowed his head in respect.

Finding Rath's reaction odd, Mark focused on the short figure that seemed to be slouched over almost painfully. Her face was covered by a hood, and a cane was held firmly in her right hand. Without the support of the walking stick, she looked as if she would fall over from a small gust of wind. "I am Mark," Mark said. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Follow me," the elder said simply, as she released Mark's shoulder and hobbled into a nearby tent. Mark followed her with his eyes, and eventually turned back to Rath.

"Do as she says," Rath said quietly, as he took the reins of Mark's horse. "I'll tend to your horse. Go."

Mark nodded and walked into the tent that the elderly woman had walked into. As he entered, he saw an aged woman with long, gray hair and wrinkles engraved deep into her face. She sat in front of a fire pit that was located at the very center of the tent. She motioned for Mark to sit down across from her. As Mark sat down, the silence of the small tent seemed to envelop him, the only sounds coming from the crackling of the fire. The woman soon looked up with a solemn gaze, causing Mark to lock eyes with her.

"I shall introduce myself, young sir," the elder said, in her quiet voice. "I am Sara of the Kutolah."

"Mark," the tactician said simply.

"Well met, Mark," Elder Sara said, her gaze locking back onto the fire. Silence passes between them again. In mere moments that felt like hours, Mark patiently watched the fire along with the elder. Finally, Elder Sara once again looked up. "You are a patient young man," she remarked.

"Such skills are necessary when you are a tactician," Mark said, as if it were common knowledge.

Elder Sara released a wry smile. "Yes. So they are. I doubt even Rath himself would have been able to hold his composure for so long. He was always so impatient, even as a boy." Mark chose not to speak, instead, letting the woman reminisce about her earlier days. "But enough about the chieftain's son," the woman said with finality. "I have to talk to you about something critical."

"At the brink of dawn tomorrow, a giant twister will sweep across the plains, obliterating everything within its path." Mark listened with rapt attention, the words on his tongue dieing along with his thoughts. "Many will die. Many more will be left without homes and a reliable food source. My tribe, in particular, will suffer the most."

"Why are you telling me this?" Mark finally asked. "Shouldn't you be telling the other elders or the chieftain?"

"This is no normal twister," the elder continued, as if she hadn't heard Mark's question. It will destroy everything in its path, and it shall not cease until it has found what it wants. And what it seeks is you." At this, the elder raised her left hand and pointed directly at Mark.

"Me?" Mark asked confusedly, pointing at himself, as if he didn't seem to believe it. "What could I possibly have to do with a twister?"

"In another land," the elder said, not looking at Mark. It was then that Mark realized that the woman had been staring into the fire the entire time, "war has broken out, leaving the scars of what was once a great empire. You have unfinished business. And so, the gods of that world call out to you, to right the wrongs that have been made, and to restore balance."

"Why me?" Mark asked.

"You are the son of legends," Elder Sara stated, now looking at Mark. "Masterful tactician. Even the gods acknowledge your prowess. And your services are being called upon again. This twister will not stop until you have thrown yourself into it."

"…" Mark was speechless. He did not doubt the words of seers (Hannah and Nils had proved very useful during his campaign) but this seemed completely outrageous. "W-What… If I don't throw myself into the twister? What will happen then?"

"As I said," the elder said, closing her eyes slowly. "The Kutolah tribe can flee. Even if we were to outrun the twister, the Sacaean Plains would be in ruins. Wherever you escape to, the twister will follow. Soon, you will have no choice but to throw yourself into it."

"How do I know I won't just die? Or that this twister will even come?"

"It will come. And it is your choice whether to believe me or not."

* * *

"Mark!" Lyn exclaimed as she jumped down from Florina's pegasus excitedly. She rushed forward, capturing Mark in a firm hug.

"It's great to see you too," Mark said happily, as he staggered back a bit from the impact of the hug. He nodded his head at Florina who had also dismounted and had begun to approach them.

"It's been a while, Mark," Florina said with a smile.

"Just about two years," he responded, releasing Lyn. "You both have grown so much."

"I could say the same to you," Lyn said with a laugh, noticing how much taller Mark had become. He had to have grown at least half a foot over the past two years, his total height now reaching nearly six feet. "Where have you been these past few years? What've you been doing?" Mark smiled as he allowed Lyn to lead him towards a nearby tent, preparing for a long night of conversation.

* * *

Mark's eyes shot open as he heard the rustling of a covers. "I didn't mean to wake you," Rath said quietly, standing up from his bed roll.

"It's fine," Mark sighed, sitting up on his elbows. "I couldn't sleep very well anyways." It had not been until well into the night that Lyn left her and Rath's shared tent to allow Mark to finally get some rest. The conversation with Lyn was not what weighed on Mark's mind, however, but rather, it was the words of the elder Sara which still reverberated throughout his mind.

"..." Rath said nothing, instead choosing to put on his traditional Kutolah shirt. Mark also got up, adjusting the robes that he had worn to sleep. They were slightly wrinkled, but they seemed okay to wear for another day or two. Rath walked out of the tent and Mark followed suit.

The sun was barely creeping over the horizon as Rath and Mark emerged from their tent. Despite the early hour, there were already several tribesmen up and about, preparing for the day. Among them was the chieftain himself, approaching the pair who eyed him with interest.

"You, outsider," Dayan said brusquely. "Come with me. There is something we must discuss."

"Father?" Rath asked curiously.

"It's okay, Rath," Mark said, walking forward. "I take it this has to do with what Sara said?"

"Indeed," Dayan said grimly, only turning his back and heading towards his own tent located at the center of the small settlement. Silently, both Mark and Rath trailed behind the Silver Wolf.

* * *

"I object to that!" one of the elders shouted, as he yelled across the tent at another one of the tribe's elders. "We cannot afford to cause unnecessary panic!"

"The tribesmen deserve to know," Dayan said, eyeing the two arguing elders with his hard eyes. Seated around him were five other of the tribe's elders, Mark, and Rath. "It is for their own safety. If what Sara says is true, we must evacuate this area immediately."

"But she also said that the twister will pursue us relentlessly!" one of the elders retaliated. His comment was met with silence from all parties.

"There is," Sara said, slowly, staring out into the space in front of her, "one other way." At this, she turned her head up to look at Mark. "I believe Mark knows what I am talking about." Mark nodded with a heavy nod.

"Oh noble tactician," one of the other elders spoke, "if there is a way for you to navigate us out of this disaster, we will gladly give you our full support."

"Elder Sara did not tell you the whole truth…" Mark said slowly, as if grasping for the right words to say. "This twister, in fact, pursues me. And until it has me, it will not disperse." After Mark's comment, a silence descended upon the entire tent. Unable to stand the tense silence, Mark slowly rose and left the tent.

* * *

"Mark, what's wrong?" Lyn asked as Mark left the chieftain's tent, a sour look on his face.

"Nothing Lyn, it's just…"

"Lyn!" Florina exclaimed, running up to the pair.

"What is it, Florina?" Lyn asked, concern for her best friend overriding the curiosity for Mark's condition.

"It's Huey!" Florina choked out. "He's so skittish today and I have no idea why! And that's not all, the other tribesmen are having trouble with their horses too."

"That's unusual," Lyn muttered in contemplation. "What could have them all so scared?"

"A great storm is coming," Mark said softly.

"What, how do you know this, Mark?" Lyn asked.

"Because he is the cause of the storm," a voice from behind them said. The three turned around to see Elder Sara approach them. "I admire your resolve, young tactician."

"What do you mean?" Mark asked.

"You've already committed to throwing yourself into the twister."

"What?!" Lyn exclaimed. "Mark!"

"Lyn, I'm sorry that I haven't been able to visit for long," Mark said, looking intently at Lyn's face. The journey two years ago had greatly matured her, but her eyes never lost the innocence of the girl of eighteen he had met two years ago on the plains. "I'm off for another journey though. And I have to go alone."

"…" Lyn looked at Mark with sad eyes. "I-I… don't know what to say."

"The twister will be here soon, Mark," Sara said, looking towards the horizon. "You've noticed how still the air is, correct? The horses sense something we don't."

"I'm sorry, Lyn," Mark said, pulling her into one last strong hug. "I don't even know if I'll make it back. I will never forget the memories we've had together."

Lyn nodded sadly, and held onto Mark all the tighter. To the side, Florina had begun to tear up and even Sara looked solemn. Just as Mark released Lyn from the hug, Rath strode up to him from the tent.

"Mark, wait," Rath said, his voice sounding slightly more hurried than usual. "I… want to give you something." Rath held out a book to Mark. The cover of the book was a light hue of green and Mark could feel power just radiating from its cover.

"The ancient tome, Aurtelum?" Sara said, eyeing the book. "Yes, that would be perfect for Mark."

"Rath… I can't accept this. It's obviously very precious to the tribe."

"I insist," Rath said, practically pushing the book into Mark's hand. "As Elder Sara said, this is the ancient book, Aurtelum. It's powerful wind magic. You need only cast it and the winds of Sacae will be at your side."

"I don't know what to say," Mark said, admiring the book. The cover was beautifully filagreed and from what Rath said, it obviously contained the incantations for a very powerful spell.

"Don't say anything. Just promise you'll use it… and that you'll come back." Mark slowly looked up from the beautiful book cover and smiled at him.

"Thank you everyone," Mark said, watching Lyn lean into Rath's arms for comfort. "Once I'm done with what I have to do wherever I'm going, I'll be sure to come back."

"May Father Sky and Mother Earth bless you, Mark."

* * *

Vicious winds whipped at Mark's sides as he watched the tornado slowly making its way across the plains. It was odd, how he felt so calm at the moment despite all the uncertainty that was facing him. Just like Sara had said, the twister felt unnatural, and Mark almost got the sense that it was trying to suck him in. With one more look back at the Kutolah settlement that was but a dot in the distance, Mark apprehensively walked closer towards the eye of the tornado. Taking a deep breath, Mark ran into the winds, immediately feeling himself being pulled off the ground and thrown higher and higher. Mark closed his eyes, giving into the darkness and the feeling of being torn apart by the winds.


End file.
